Spotlighting Pan-African Poetry

Biography

Onions in the wind

Onions in the wind

As I stand here with the breeze dancing on my skin,
I suddenly realise, there must be onions in the wind
Because the air keeps kissing my eyelashes and milks tears off of them
I don’t understand what is happening, im drowning in my own rain, my own pain
My glaze is blurred and I can’t see, that the sea is flirting with my lips and I can’t taste the saltiness of the earths tips
But this, is a sign that it is tie, that my souls’ design has lost its rhyme,
so this sour lime of the hearts dime, has gained a coat of rust,
that’s what happens when you share your trust,
So its time to pick the dust, gather up the thirst to savour a new lust
To taste, to flow, to live and to grow.

As I stand here with the breeze dancing on my skin,
I suddenly realise, there must be onions in the wind
Because the air keeps kissing my eyelashes and milks tears off of them
I don’t understand what is happening, im drowning in my own rain, my own pain
My glaze is blurred and I can’t see, that the sea is flirting with my lips and I can’t taste the saltiness of the earths tips
But this, is a sign that it is tie, that my souls’ design has lost its rhyme,
so this sour lime of the hearts dime, has gained a coat of rust,
that’s what happens when you share your trust,
So its time to pick the dust, gather up the thirst to savour a new lust
To taste, to flow, to live and to grow.

Ngasuma Kanyeka

Featured Poem:

Dear fingers

Featured Poem:

Dear fingers

Dear fingers,
I love the way you linger,
on places that should be untouched,
on spaces that should be left alone,
listen I know that you burn,
and through that I learn,
that the power of your touch, could light another lantern ,
I love that you can touch my core with a stroke,
I love the sensation only you can evoke,
but I want to let you know that you are not the only sense that is, entitled to discovery,
that as much as I love you, I love my eyes too,
see I love my eyes because they see the colours and hues ,
I love seeing seasons renewed,
the changes in places but mostly in people’s faces,
the cracking of ones’ skin, the saggy parts of what was once lean,
like the depth of caves and the width of waves,
I love what you give me in wonder,
I cannot appreciate you enough for letting me discover the shape of my fingers,
but dear eyes as much as I love you, I must tell you who I love the most,
See I love my sixth sense, the one that speaks to my body with overwhelming power ,
hitting my belly with pangs when there are unseen fangs on the prowl,
See I love my spirit for letting me see the colours and visions in the darkness that I would not have seen in the light,
for letting me see the stories that I would tell, the unforeseen happening that I already see so well.
I love this holiest of places, that I cherish with prayers, that strips bare all my layers,
that tells me to heed silence especially when its loud, because in that golden crowd of confusion that is where truth is found,
I love my stubborn streak, that tells me listening to my instinct is meek,
because where is the structure and method in visions?
but this great invention churns out harsh lessons , that each time I defy my conscious,
I defy my most vivid self, I discover a lesson and in this painful moment,
I am touched by a blessing and see the truth in discovery and divine.

Dear fingers,
I love the way you linger,
on places that should be untouched,
on spaces that should be left alone,
listen I know that you burn,
and through that I learn,
that the power of your touch, could light another lantern ,
I love that you can touch my core with a stroke,
I love the sensation only you can evoke,
but I want to let you know that you are not the only sense that is, entitled to discovery,
that as much as I love you, I love my eyes too,
see I love my eyes because they see the colours and hues ,
I love seeing seasons renewed,
the changes in places but mostly in people’s faces,
the cracking of ones’ skin, the saggy parts of what was once lean,
like the depth of caves and the width of waves,
I love what you give me in wonder,
I cannot appreciate you enough for letting me discover the shape of my fingers,
but dear eyes as much as I love you, I must tell you who I love the most,
See I love my sixth sense, the one that speaks to my body with overwhelming power ,
hitting my belly with pangs when there are unseen fangs on the prowl,
See I love my spirit for letting me see the colours and visions in the darkness that I would not have seen in the light,
for letting me see the stories that I would tell, the unforeseen happening that I already see so well.
I love this holiest of places, that I cherish with prayers, that strips bare all my layers,
that tells me to heed silence especially when its loud, because in that golden crowd of confusion that is where truth is found,
I love my stubborn streak, that tells me listening to my instinct is meek,
because where is the structure and method in visions?
but this great invention churns out harsh lessons , that each time I defy my conscious,
I defy my most vivid self, I discover a lesson and in this painful moment,
I am touched by a blessing and see the truth in discovery and divine.

“I love this holiest of places, that I cherish with prayers, that strips bare all my layers, that tells me to heed silence especially when its loud, because in that golden crowd of confusion that is where truth is found.”

Biography

Ngasuma Kanyeka

Biography

Onions in the wind

Onions in the wind

As I stand here with the breeze dancing on my skin,
I suddenly realise, there must be onions in the wind
Because the air keeps kissing my eyelashes and milks tears off of them
I don’t understand what is happening, im drowning in my own rain, my own pain
My glaze is blurred and I can’t see, that the sea is flirting with my lips and I can’t taste the saltiness of the earths tips
But this, is a sign that it is tie, that my souls’ design has lost its rhyme,
so this sour lime of the hearts dime, has gained a coat of rust,
that’s what happens when you share your trust,
So its time to pick the dust, gather up the thirst to savour a new lust
To taste, to flow, to live and to grow.

As I stand here with the breeze dancing on my skin,
I suddenly realise, there must be onions in the wind
Because the air keeps kissing my eyelashes and milks tears off of them
I don’t understand what is happening, im drowning in my own rain, my own pain
My glaze is blurred and I can’t see, that the sea is flirting with my lips and I can’t taste the saltiness of the earths tips
But this, is a sign that it is tie, that my souls’ design has lost its rhyme,
so this sour lime of the hearts dime, has gained a coat of rust,
that’s what happens when you share your trust,
So its time to pick the dust, gather up the thirst to savour a new lust
To taste, to flow, to live and to grow.

Featured Poem:

Dear fingers

Featured Poem:

Dear fingers

Dear fingers,
I love the way you linger,
on places that should be untouched,
on spaces that should be left alone,
listen I know that you burn,
and through that I learn,
that the power of your touch, could light another lantern ,
I love that you can touch my core with a stroke,
I love the sensation only you can evoke,
but I want to let you know that you are not the only sense that is, entitled to discovery,
that as much as I love you, I love my eyes too,
see I love my eyes because they see the colours and hues ,
I love seeing seasons renewed,
the changes in places but mostly in people’s faces,
the cracking of ones’ skin, the saggy parts of what was once lean,
like the depth of caves and the width of waves,
I love what you give me in wonder,
I cannot appreciate you enough for letting me discover the shape of my fingers,
but dear eyes as much as I love you, I must tell you who I love the most,
See I love my sixth sense, the one that speaks to my body with overwhelming power ,
hitting my belly with pangs when there are unseen fangs on the prowl,
See I love my spirit for letting me see the colours and visions in the darkness that I would not have seen in the light,
for letting me see the stories that I would tell, the unforeseen happening that I already see so well.
I love this holiest of places, that I cherish with prayers, that strips bare all my layers,
that tells me to heed silence especially when its loud, because in that golden crowd of confusion that is where truth is found,
I love my stubborn streak, that tells me listening to my instinct is meek,
because where is the structure and method in visions?
but this great invention churns out harsh lessons , that each time I defy my conscious,
I defy my most vivid self, I discover a lesson and in this painful moment,
I am touched by a blessing and see the truth in discovery and divine.

Dear fingers,
I love the way you linger,
on places that should be untouched,
on spaces that should be left alone,
listen I know that you burn,
and through that I learn,
that the power of your touch, could light another lantern ,
I love that you can touch my core with a stroke,
I love the sensation only you can evoke,
but I want to let you know that you are not the only sense that is, entitled to discovery,
that as much as I love you, I love my eyes too,
see I love my eyes because they see the colours and hues ,
I love seeing seasons renewed,
the changes in places but mostly in people’s faces,
the cracking of ones’ skin, the saggy parts of what was once lean,
like the depth of caves and the width of waves,
I love what you give me in wonder,
I cannot appreciate you enough for letting me discover the shape of my fingers,
but dear eyes as much as I love you, I must tell you who I love the most,
See I love my sixth sense, the one that speaks to my body with overwhelming power ,
hitting my belly with pangs when there are unseen fangs on the prowl,
See I love my spirit for letting me see the colours and visions in the darkness that I would not have seen in the light,
for letting me see the stories that I would tell, the unforeseen happening that I already see so well.
I love this holiest of places, that I cherish with prayers, that strips bare all my layers,
that tells me to heed silence especially when its loud, because in that golden crowd of confusion that is where truth is found,
I love my stubborn streak, that tells me listening to my instinct is meek,
because where is the structure and method in visions?
but this great invention churns out harsh lessons , that each time I defy my conscious,
I defy my most vivid self, I discover a lesson and in this painful moment,
I am touched by a blessing and see the truth in discovery and divine.

How does this featured poem make you feel?

Onions in the wind

Onions in the wind

As I stand here with the breeze dancing on my skin,
I suddenly realise, there must be onions in the wind
Because the air keeps kissing my eyelashes and milks tears off of them
I don’t understand what is happening, im drowning in my own rain, my own pain
My glaze is blurred and I can’t see, that the sea is flirting with my lips and I can’t taste the saltiness of the earths tips
But this, is a sign that it is tie, that my souls’ design has lost its rhyme,
so this sour lime of the hearts dime, has gained a coat of rust,
that’s what happens when you share your trust,
So its time to pick the dust, gather up the thirst to savour a new lust
To taste, to flow, to live and to grow.

As I stand here with the breeze dancing on my skin,
I suddenly realise, there must be onions in the wind
Because the air keeps kissing my eyelashes and milks tears off of them
I don’t understand what is happening, im drowning in my own rain, my own pain
My glaze is blurred and I can’t see, that the sea is flirting with my lips and I can’t taste the saltiness of the earths tips
But this, is a sign that it is tie, that my souls’ design has lost its rhyme,
so this sour lime of the hearts dime, has gained a coat of rust,
that’s what happens when you share your trust,
So its time to pick the dust, gather up the thirst to savour a new lust
To taste, to flow, to live and to grow.

Comments

Woooow woooow
“see I love my spirit for letting me see the colours and visions in the darkness, that I would not have seen in the light” my fav verse of the entire poem

“I love this holiest of places, that I cherish with prayers, that strips bare all my layers, that tells me to heed silence especially when its loud, because in that golden crowd of confusion that is where truth is found.”